


And it’s never been as real as I remember it

by Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth



Category: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: National Anthem (Comics)
Genre: Gen, I make my own canon <3, Let me use the percent symbol in the tags pls :(, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27238429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth
Summary: Kara 100% and Animax is who they used to be. Ve doesn’t know who they are now
Relationships: Animax | Maxwell &; Kara 100 Percent
Comments: 16
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still disclaimer-ing for the future reader that at this point, there isn’t any canon
> 
> Okay hi! Editing this note in on December ninth; this was written before the third issue came out, and as such, was written with Kara’s deadname. I have edited that out now, and some comments will still reflect her old name; vis pronouns are she/ve in my canon :)

He doesn’t remember _anything_ , and it tears vir apart, when ve can manage to feel fucking anything about it other than scared. Kara had bought another lock for vis bedroom door (that can’t be right; she can’t go outside, let alone to a store. But the lock is here nonetheless?), whispering something about keeping the monsters out, and Max had frowned, asking vir about the monsters, back turned so his gaze doesn’t scare Kara, and Kara had explained again, about being a Fabulous Killjoy, about the life they’d shared together before everything changed, before their world— Kara’s, really, had become the plain beige walls of the apartment. Max had frowned, tilted his head, and Kara realized she’d called him Animax, not _Max_ , the name he’d put on one day like an ill-fitting jacket, and never taken off. 

“Animax,” Kara had said again. “That was your name, and you were the best shot of the four of us.”

“Best... shot? With what?” Max’s hands assemble and load the ghost of his gun, and he looks down at them in wondered disbelief. Kara knows it won’t last, because he’s come _so damn close_ to remembering more times than Kara can count, and each time, he’s forgotten again by morning. Kara would have given up by now if not for the glimpses of Animax, if not for the reassurance that Kara’s not the one in the warped reality. Maybe they both are. 

Sometimes she wonders if ve’s in the wrong, trying to make Animax remember. It’s selfish, to try and draw him into vis reality, but she thinks Animax would want it. Does what Animax wants matter, if it’s not what Max wants? She thinks about it, doublechecking the deadbolts on the closet door. A man had walked out of the closet, once, tipping his hat and asking if Kara would be so kind as to show him to the exit. Kara slept in the bathroom for a week and a half after that, ignoring the words that dripped from the leaky showerhead, soaking the ends of vir blanket with poetry.


	2. Chapter 2

Max. Max. Animax. The name feels familiar and wrong, all in one. Like a grade-school nickname given to you by a peer more for the novelty of creating a nickname than any genuine affection. 

He’s reading too much into this. Either Kara’s right, or ve’s wrong, and right now, neither matters. He has to scrub away whatever’s crusted onto the bottom of this plate, that’s all. He’ll do that, finish the dishes, and leave the kitchen so Kara can put them away. He’ll go to his room, change into pajamas, and read his book. It’s a new one, left on someone’s stoop with a ‘FREE— PLEASE TAKE’ sign, a book about the history of the television. 

Max has never had a television, he realizes, as he gives up on the plate and leaves it to soak, wiping his hands on his dress shirt. His t-shirt. He looks down, and his shirt is a secondhand shirt, a giveaway from some radio station. He can feel the tough fabric and buttons of a dress shirt as he touches it, though, and he washes his hands again, trying to rid himself of the texture. It doesn’t work, and he shuffles off to bed so lost in his thoughts he’s read three pages of his book before he realizes he’s neglected to turn on the light. Just as he closes the book to get up and hit the switch, it flickers on. Animax huffs, gives up, and goes to bed, light still on.

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder when this’ll become a real fandom with an official tag?  
> Leave a comment below and find me on tumblr @wishiwasthemoon-tonight!!!


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